


faster than the wind

by myillusionsgone



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 18:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myillusionsgone/pseuds/myillusionsgone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people were simply born to rule the skies —— and still stumble over their own words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	faster than the wind

> **_faster than the wind_ **
> 
> **_Characters_ ** _: Sherry Blendy & Lyon Vastia_
> 
> **_Summary_ ** _: Some people were simply born to rule the skies —— and still stumble over their own words._
> 
> _**Prompt:**_   _sherryon hogwarts au: lyon asking sherry out for a butterbeer and him blushing at pda_

* * *

Sherry Blendy knew Lyon Vastia.

Well, everyone knew Lyon Vastia, just like everyone knew Sherry, too. He was keeper for his house team and his impressive saves had saved Ravenclaw the quidditch cup three years in a row —— until Sherry had switched her position within her own team and had left the spot of the seeker open for her younger cousin while she played chaser these days.

And just like Lyon was supposedly the best keeper at school – and well, he generally performed better than Slytherin’s rather eccentric Gajeel Redfox – Sherry herself was among the best chasers. As far as the self-proclaimed experts were concerned, she was at least on the same level as Lyon’s younger adopted brother – their family history was a  _ **mess**_  and everyone knew that – Gray Fullbuster who played for Ravenclaw as well.

The thing was, they knew each other on the pitch. Lyon was captain of his team, had been for the past three years – youngest captain in the past two hundred years – and Sherry had started her fifth year with a brand-new badge on her collar.

And as long as they were not rivals, they went along rather well and if Sherry was honest, she kind of liked him. Okay, she liked him a lot. Not that anyone really knew this. She was captain of her team and her house relied on her loyalty to her house. Well, she was a Hufflepuff so loyalty was her kind of thing.

Plus, it was not like she had a real chance. 

This was at least what she kept telling herself until the fateful day she stumbled across him after practice. Her mood was horrible —— Dragneel had gone a little overboard, again, and had swung his bat a little too enthusiastic, again, and had nearly knocked out Chelia, again —— and all she wanted was a her bed, a bubble bath and a cup of tea, not necessarily in this order.

She had sent her team to the common room, wanting at least three minutes to herself before she would have to deal with Natsu Dragneel’s lack of remorse – ‘I was just doing my job, captain, really!’ – and then, just as she had caught the snitch and managed to get the bludgers to return to the box, she heard footsteps behind her.

And then, she nearly cursed the living daylights out of Lyon because with a team like hers, her wand was never really out of reach, rules be damned.

“Bloody hell,” she hissed as she kicked the box shut, her frustration finally lashing out.

“Eventful practice?” the keeper asked as he crossed his arms. “I passed Dragneel in the halls; he sounded like you nearly murdered him today.”

She rolled her eyes as she shouldered her broom before she waved her wand and levitated the box before she frowned at him. “You haven’t come to spy on our newest tactics, have you?” she asked although the idea itself was rather ridiculous. Especially since Ravenclaw was playing against Gryffindor next while Hufflepuff’s opponent-to-be was Slytherin and Sherry was very motivated to wipe the smirk off Redfox’ face, especially she had spent the last match Hufflepuff versus Slytherin in the hospital wing after having been jinxed in class – by a Slytherin, of course.

He raised an eyebrow before he followed her. “There’d be little fun in beating your team after spying on you,” he said as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his cloak. “It’s all about both teams performing to their best abilities … plus our head of house would  _murder_  us for cheating.”

This seemed like a realistic outlook and so Sherry flinched before she shot him a sympathetic gaze. “Still, you probably haven’t come to carry the equipment back to Professor Marvell’s office for me, yes?” she asked, a certain uneasiness settling in.

“Um, yeah,” he said as he scratched the back of his neck, “it’s Hogsmade weekend this week and I, uh, wondered whether or not you were going. With, uh, someone.”

A frown crossed her face, then, she stopped her steps and crossed her arms. “You aren’t asking me out, are you?” she asked because this was confusing as hell for her but usually, Lyon was rather smooth and so she felt like she would instantly inquire why he was suddenly stumbling over his own words because this was unusual for him.

“I kinda am,” he said before he pressed his lips together. “Just a butterbeer or two, nothing serious unless—“

She smiled. The way he was usually so graceful in the air and yet so awkward when he was out of his element was somewhat adorable. Not that the word adorable suited Lyon Vastia at all. “I am supposed to look a bit after Lia – it’s her first Hogsmade year, after all – but I guess that I can leave her in the hands of the team,” she mused aloud as her brows furrowed. They were Hufflepuffs and they were like family, anyway, so this should be okay. “So meet me in the town centre around quarter past three? I need to run some errands.”

Like buying new quidditch gloves, her old ones were falling apart at the seams and she could impossibly ask Juvia to fix them, again.

* * *

Hogsmade was pretty in late autumn and although it was raining when Lyon finally spotted the spot of bright pink in the crowd, he was nearly smiling. He was said to be stoic and this was actually something his team valued because he had likely the strongest nerves in his team, holding the current school record for holding the most penalty shoots ever in school history.

In his hands, he was holding the bag with the items he had bought for his adoptive mother. Ur was the Charms teacher at Hogwarts and although she usually went to the village herself, she had claimed to have caught a cold and so Lyon had gotten stuck carrying the books – books he could not even make any lighter because he was just sixteen and he was not allowed to use any spells in Hogsmade.

“Lyon,” Sherry greeted as she came to a stop in front of him, raindrops glittering in her hair like diamonds or something like that. He rarely felt poetic, he was not Jellal Fernandes – head boy and a fellow Ravenclaw – who constantly had his nose in poetry written by muggles and who had enchanted a looking glass once to recite poetry befitting the user’s appearance.

(This had gotten him somewhat in trouble with a certain Defence Against Dark Art Teachers who had been disliked by nearly everyone.)

“Sherry,” he said with a little nod before he frowned slightly, “did you forget your hat?”

She sighed before she turned around and mentioned towards the crowd of Hufflepuffs that was stumbling into Honeydukes. “Lia forgot hers and she just was ill so I let her borrow mine,” she explained and he wondered whether her kindness was the benevolence of a dedicated captain of a quidditch team or the compassion of an older sister.

He did not dwell long on it but removed his scarf from his neck before he carefully wrapped it around her head. “There,” he said as he prayed for his face to remain pale, as he prayed for his blush not to appear. “Can’t have you get ill, can I?”

She did blush, however, and she did look rather adorable as she looked down, her feet tapping a nervous rhythm. “Thanks,” she muttered as her hands came up to push the scarf a little away from her eyes. “Not my usual colours but it’s warm.”

He considered to call her out on the lie, considered to tell her that he knew that during last season’s finals, she had worn Ravenclaw's colour – along with the turban of bandages around her head – but if he would ask about that, he would automatically reveal that he had been looking for her in the crowd.

Ravenclaw versus Slytherin had been the last match of the season and the fact that Ravenclaw had won but Slytherin had caught the snitch – it had been a weird match, he remembered – had been why Hufflepuff had won the cup.

(No one won a house cup with a good keeper when the rest of the team was either constantly injured, serving detention or just incapable.)

(Last season had not been Ravenclaw’s, really.)

“Ur enchanted all our scarves,” he said as they walked down the street, his eyes flickering around. God, this was really awkward because he had no idea how he was supposed how to behave. He had taken three weeks to work out how to ask her out and he had not really expected her to say yes. This was _Sherry Blendy_ , probably the best player on her house team, the  **admired**  captain. The very reason why he had finally gathered the courage to actually ask her had been been that he had overheard two Slytherins discussing whether or not she was secretly seeing someone and whether it would be safe to ask her out.

Well, Lyon had been faster than those fools.

“She is  _really_  a genius,” the chaser said as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m impressed … does it adjust automatically?”

He nodded. Charms were a good topic, this was a topic he knew a lot about because he had been raised by the rumoured top charms expert of this century. “She worked at this spell for a while,” he said slowly, “I think she, uh, added it to the curriculum of the seventh year. Not sure, though.”

It was somewhat weird that the easiest topic was the one about his adoptive mother’s skill but then, it nearly made sense. Sherry was in her fifth year, she was preparing her O.W.L.s and from what he remembered, she had once mentioned that she needed an E in Charms for her N.E.W.T.s to have a chance in pursuing a career in the medical field so Charms was a topic that held her interest.

Just like Quidditch.

“Do you still want to be a professional quidditch player after school?” she asked before she pushed open the door to The Three Broomsticks. Lyon was happy that this was her choice rather than Madam Puddifoot’s – which was a rather popular choice for dates and he had overheard quite a few Ravenclaw girls discussing how romantic it would be to be taken there.

“Either that or an Oblivator,” he shrugged before he could not resist to ask why on earth she was probably the only girl at their school who could withstand the temptation of the tea shop.

And she laughed at the question and it took a full five minutes for her to calm. By then, they had found a table in a corner and had ordered their drinks. “Puddifoots is the  _ultimate_  object of projection of ideas of romance,” she said with a snort, her cheeks aflame. “I mean … romance is great but … most people in this school go for the clichés. I mean, I wouldn’t want to go on a date to the same joint my teachers probably had their first romantic encounters.”

Lyon made a mental note that whatever happened, he would never ever suggest a date at the tea shop. This was easy, he had been there once and it had been horrible.

Well, here was to hoping that he would not mess up this date and that there would be any future dates with the pink-haired chaser.


End file.
